Catch Me if You Can
by Master Fearless Shadow
Summary: Zootopia was at peace; not many crimes waved or trouble being started. That is, until a new and young outlaw has finally come out of the shadows to start a riot of trouble and has recently joined a sinister syndicate. And it's going to take the best ZPD Officers, Detectives and their Allies to take down this criminal and empire. Rated T 4 violence and language. Rating might change.
**Note: All Zootopia belongs to Disney. OCs belong to me.**

 **A/N: Hey everyone! So just so u all know, My other story is going 2 b on hiatus 4 awhile, so sorry guys. :( But, the good thing is, that everyone is mostly interested in Zootopia. Also, so am I. I LOVE ZOOTOPIA! So this here is my first Zootopia FanFic, so this will be fun 2 write! As I'm sure most of u will agree (and others entertained). So R &R! Like, Fav, and Follow! Now on with the Show!**

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It was nighttime on the streets of Zootopia. The Homeless gathered around their makeshift fireplaces, desperately trying to get warm, thinking about how they were going to get their next morsel of food. Rats scurried around in the sewers and alleyways, feasting on whatever scraps of rotten food and garbage they could find.

No one paid any attention to the silhouette figure running across the dark alleys on the other side of the street. A white figure, almost entirely dressed in black, except for the vanilla color of his fur and the color of his eyes: Crimson red. He had a black fadora covering most of of his facial features, but his eyewear was doing the fine job hiding his glowing eyes behind the visors. His torso was covered by a dark grey sweater and a hoodless black leather jacket that was labeled: 'Daft Punk' on the back in bright orange and red mixed colors, his lower body, was covered in black jeans that had a chain from his leather black belt to his right pocket on his right side, on his belt; a bullet packet was strapped around his waist that resembled a 1800 cowboy's ammunition belt. Last but not least; a tattoo that said: _"Billy the Kid."_ On his left forearm.

The black covered figure looked to his side, and then looked straight forward to make sure no one was after him as he looked towards his goal of escape. His motions were remarkably fast, as he ran ahead and appeared a second before anyone's eyes, and then he vanished.

Turning to his right, he saw a broken down ladder in a heap of scrap metal and cardboard boxes. Behind it: was a busted dented but heavy metal door. Looking behind him, the figure made sure no was looking before running towards the hidden passageway. The first thing he did when he got there was; throwing away the garbage that laid in his path, making sure he was not making too much noise to attract attention, he pushed and grabbed smaller pieces of scrap metal as he made sure to be careful of not grabbing sharp edges as he removed the pieces of steel before throwing aside the damp, moldy, and sticky cardboard boxes.

Growling in annoyance, as he felt his paws get covered with a wet and sticky substance, the figure mustered the courage not to curse in vain over something so small and childish and uncomfortable. He started filling up his mouth with a large glob of saliva, and quickly spat into his paws and rubbed them together. Covering his entire paws with his mouth water and made sure he had rid of the rest of the mess by wiping it on his jacket and promised himself that he find a bathroom first to wash his hands, before going down to business with his employer.

Sighing to himself, the figure knocked in a code-like gesture to get the attention of the animal bouncer on the other side. A small slot opened in the middle of the door and a pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared. " _Billy_." The figure finally spoke. The eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing, the slot closed over them and the door was pushed open by the rhino bouncer to let the figure in before closing the door behind him and locked it.

Finding a restroom, the figure found the sink and turned on the water and began cleaning his paws. Rinsing off the soap, the figure noticed the cuff of his sleeves were dirty, but that was before they were entirely drenched in water before finally drying them off with paper towels.

His back was turned when he heard the sound of the door slowly swing open. The figure held his breath as he listened to probably one of the thugs he worked with, walk in. He tried not to show his anxiety as he heard the thug answer behind his back.

"Evening, ferret." A Bulldog goon didn't bother knocking on the door as he walked in to use the urinals.

The Ferret scowled. "Why don't you stay away from the gym for a while? Say, until your next fight with me?"

The Bulldog was at the urinal next to the sink, opening his fly and relieving himself while he spoke. "You know what I was thinking?" The Bulldog said while urinating, the Ferret sat down on a bench in the middle of the room, listening, while the latter continued. "I was thinking that you've been workin' real hard these last few months. So hard, in fact, that you should take it easy. _Real_ easy, if you know what I mean."

The Ferret looked up from examining his paws. " _Brutal_ ," he gritted, unsure of why the bulldog would come through his personal bouts.

"Did you _hear_ what I said?" Brutal called from his spot in front of the urinal.

The Ferret just sat there, too irritated and agitated to move. He slowly extracted collecting his thoughts as he prepared himself for his reckless actions. The knuckles on his paws ached for violence and that were red from the hot boiling water he used to wash off the oil from them.

The Ferret got up, a wide smile cracking broadly. "See you later, then." The Bulldog had time to finish his bathroom break and zipped up his fly before he had time to turn face and question the ferret what he was talking about; before he got his answer: He was socked directly in the face. Hard. Almost causing him to fall face first in the urinal with his own urine. The bulldog gained consciousness and growled in distaste, "okay, alright. Now I'm going to kick your little ass." He bared his teeth in anger as the ferret frowned in disfaction.

Before he realized it, the bulldog started charging and tackled the ferret by surprise and they both crash through the wooden door and they fall on the floor wrestling each other. The crowd in the bar was watching and started chanting: "Fight! Fight! Fight!" as they watched the sight before them. The Bulldog launched a fist across the ferret's face knocking off his glasses and loosining his fadora on his head. The Ferret grabbed the Bulldog by the ear and yanked his head down to the ground. The Ferret got on top of him and started punching him vividly in the face, blood began to leak from the bulldog's battered snout as the swings kept coming. Brutal had had enough as he roughly pushed the ferret off of him and grabbed him by the tail and neck, and launched him across the room, his fadora fell off as he crashed right in between two beer barrels and a water vender.

Adrenaline pumped through the Ferret's body, fueling the dark thoughts of revenge that flowed through his brains as he began to delude himself to taking out a weapon to kill the bulldog or at least injure him to the point of regretting on tackling him in the bathroom. Flipping himself back to his feet the Ferret glared menacingly at his polar opposite and studied his movements.

Brutal's moves were minor. The Ferret knew he was swift and precise with each dodge and when he retaliated he was sure to deliver a precise punch. Brutal came at him with a pipe, a pity for Brutal because the Ferret easily caught the weapon and wrenched it out of his grasp. Brutal became surprised, because the next thing he knew was the ferret caught him in the jaw with the pipe and he fell to the floor, blood dripping in his mouth. Blood pounded in Brutal's temples. The slightly shaking, wounded ferret standing next to the barrels of beer next to him was the last obstacle between himself and domination.

The ferret doesn't know if he was persisted for another round of beatings or what, that was until, the sound of a gun loading caught his attention and his eyes narrowed in determination before widening in horror as a handgun appeared in the Bulldog's grasp and was pointed directly at him. The whole room went silent. "That's why you shouldn't do them in the first place." Brutal snickered darkly, pulling himself up and trying to regain his balance. "Put your hands up," he instructed and so the ferret cautiously raised his paws up. And Brutal commanded again, "turn around. Slowly," the ferret slowly reversed to his side until his back was only shown. "I can tell everybody 'Billy the Kid' is a punk-ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself—" 'Billy' whirled on him with a gun of his own in his paws, and every last bit of confidence, brio, and grit Brutal possessed vanished in an instant. Billy smirked as he saw the fear in the Bulldog's eyes. First, they change from being bossy, to confusion and then _fear_.

Brutal's mind scrambled after the control he had over the situation not a moment earlier, it was then that he realized that he still had a gun of his own in his right paw and felt his confidence regain his strength. He raised his gun quickly before the ferret could blink. " _Au Revoir, salaud._ " He pulled the trigger and a click was all that was heard in the surrounding of the room and was amplified by the chuckles of the ferret across from him. A brief flash of shock was accompanied by the gasps of bystanders as Brutal realized what was wrong: His gun was empty. Looking up nervously to the ferret; he saw a glint of satisfaction and pride in his glowing red eyes as he held a gun magazine and waved it tauntingly at the stunned bulldog and audience before raising his own firearm. " _Bang_." The gunshot echoed in the bar as people yelped and Brutal fell to the floor; completely lifeless.

Turning his attention back to the crowd, the ferret reached into his pocket and pulled out a envelope with 500$ in it and casually walked up to the counter and handed it to the bartender. "Sorry about the mess. Drinks for everyone." He says before leaning down to resource his glasses and fadora. Turning back around to face the silent local bystanders, he yelled out: "DRINKS FOR EVERYONE!" Everybody went wild and celebrated, the ferret turned back to the bartender to ask him, "Is he in the back?" He asked, the bartender nodded and replied, "yep. You probably got his attention though, now that a gun went off and was loud as a train's horn." The ferret nodded, he was going to hear from his boss later on, so before he took a step further from the counter, he ordered a bottle of Clawrona before going to the back of the bar where the boss was.

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He held his breath as he walked through the doors. Billy stood far inches outside the door of the loft his boss was in. Trying to remember what in the world he was doing there. Then he remembered why, he finished his mission. His _job_. He tried not to show his fear as he walked past the Bulldog thugs standing guard of the door.

"What do you want?" one asked. If Billy had been in in other state-of-mind, he would have laughed at the pea-brained bodyguard's surprise.

Instead, Billy looked straight into his dull eyes. "I need to talk to the boss."

"Oh yeah? Well the boss is busy. Looks like you're going to have to go home." The second thug pushed Billy in the chest with one finger.

Billy looked at the finger, his jaw clenched. "I'm not going anywhere. Not until I see Fallon."

The two idiots looked at each other, conferring silently. The first one who'd spoken relayed their conclusions. "Look here, we got our orders, buddy. We ain't lettin' you in."

He'd pushed Billy's last button. Billy felt the adrenaline pump threw his veins and he went with it.

 _POW!_ The first thug was down with a right hook. The second one tried to hit Billy with a bad punch, but _BANG!_ Billy knocked him into the door, which collapsed under their combined weight. It hadn't taken longer than a few seconds.

"What the hell!" The Boss didn't seem too happy from where Billy was standing, or more like sitting, on the thug.

Billy scrambled up, trying to look dignified; the two bulldogs he'd been fighting, however, were out cold.

"I need to speak with you," Billy said, confidence ebbing slightly.

"What'cha want?" The Falcon lit a cigarette calmly and leaned back.

"I'm here to tell you, I've done what you've told me."

"You come on board this new thing and yet, you have succeeded in almost everything. Except ya' know shootin' Brutal and picking fights with smaller dicks like you, that's half of your payment cut out for shooting Brutal." The ferret groaned. The falcon continued. "But you won't have to be a thief for me ever again."

Billy didn't trust anybody who kept two idiots like the ones he'd just "fought" outside. Plus it sounded too good to be true. "What's the catch?"

"Hah, you weren't so cautious last time, eh?" Another drag of nicotine, "No catch. You go back to Canada and bring me back a can and bag of those drinks and explosives, and I'll be your manager. I have set up a open position, you need to just show up, next week."

It didn't seem possible to Billy. It was too easy, but then again, what choice did he have? This is what he wanted! Either he wanted to rise up to the food chain or he stays a thug and returned to being punched for a living. It was a no-brainer.

"I'll take it."

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 **Like I said: Like, Fav and Follow, and R &R!**


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